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“He isn’t?” Juliette asks.

“If he was, I wouldn’t be here.”

What in the name… where is Beau?

He’s not ill, or I certainly would have noticed last night. Maybe something else came up, like Lock often has happen, but then again Beau doesn’t usually let anyone else dictate his schedule but him.

If he’s not here, it’s because he chose not to be.

I’m equal parts relieved and enraged.

He not only has left me here to do the event by myself, but he can’t even face me after yesterday? I didn’t want to see him, but now it puts off the eventual confrontation we’re bound to have.

I quickly school my face into one of disinterest, which Edwin seems to note curiously. “Oh,” I say. “He didn’t mention anything to me.”

“Does he usually tell you of his comings and goings?” Edwin asks, one bushy gray eyebrow cocked.

“No,” I sputter, a bit too harshly. “I mean, I just expected that if he wasn’t planning to attend, he would’ve mentioned that when we were all together preparing for the event.” I don’t mention us leaving the meeting together, and blessedly, neither does Juliette.

“Well.” Edwin clasps his hands together. “Take this as your formal notice then.”

The way he’s assessing me puts me on edge.

You’re being paranoid, I remind myself. Just keep your head on straight, and it’ll be fine. There’s no way Beau would’ve said anything, let alone to Edwin of all people.

“I came to ensure that the event, which bears the Caulfield name, runs smoothly, despite a Caulfield not able to be present.”

“That is very appreciated, Edwin. Thank you,” Juliette says. He merely lifts his nose in the air. “Would you like to follow me to the welcome tent? Attendees will be allowed in shortly.” Thank God. Yes, please lead him away from me.

“Very well, then.” He and Juliette start off in the opposite direction of where I decide to scamper off to, and I stifle a sigh of relief. But even with the expanse of the grounds between us, I still feel his eyes on me like phantom bugs crawling on my skin.

Seventeen

Lock cancels our tea date, through a short email sent from Edwin, and it is two agonizing days before I hear from him again. Two days spent worrying and wondering if his urgent meetings have anything to do with what happened between me and Beau.

Maybe he knows and needed time to get his things in order before he confronts me.

Maybe it was something similar to what has pulled him away before.

My nails are picked to nothing but stubs as I wring my hands together, approaching Lock’s office. Edwin escorted me from the entrance, giving me his usual cold manners. He knocks twice. A faint, “Come in,” sounds, and Edwin swings the door open. He gestures for me to go-ahead, and I feel as if I may be taking my final steps when I walk inside.

Lock is hunched over his desk, scribbling on a piece of paper. “Just one moment,” he says without looking up.

“Of course,” I murmur as I fiddle with the strap of my purse and glance around the office. It’s the exact style of rich, warm wood with elegant upholstery and draping that I would expect for a Crown Prince’s office. One entire wall is made of bookcases, each filled with books. Most of them are old and worn, but I wonder if they’re that way from Lock’s hands, or the heirs before him.

He sets his pen down with a thud. “My apologies. Had to get this form finished before we go.”

I incline my head. “Your apology is unnecessary. I understand.”

I stand with baited breath as he rises from the chair and finally looks at me. Is it going to be anger there? Betrayal? Condemnation?

None of the above. Lock smiles. A close-lipped one, but his usually are. He sweeps a hand through his short hair. “While that is a lovely dress, I guess I should’ve told you to dress comfortably today.”

I look down at myself and frown. It’s a simple lilac dress with white flowers and a corseted top. “Oh, I—is it not appropriate?"

“Don’t fret. I’m sure my mother’s riding clothes will fit you.”

“Riding clothes?”